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AMES' Series of 3S 



STANDARD AND MINOR DRAMA 



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!\» 7K 





— OR 

THE LOVE OF GOLD. 

A DRAMA OF VERMONT, 

_ - IN TW'o ACTS, 

ps bsr 

.z s w t i b~r 

W. FHHRI WILKINS. 



WITH CAST OF CHARACTERS, ENTRANCES ANV EXITS, RE LA TIVB 
POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS ON THE ST A GE, DE- 
SCRIPTION OF COSTUME, AND THE WHOLE OF 
THE STAGE BUSINESS, AS PERFORM- 
ED AT THE PR 1 NCI PA L A M ER- 
IC AN AND ENGLISH 
THEATRES 



A. 1) AMES, PUBUSUER, 

A C< 



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AMES' STA^WAKl) A^'l> SI I IVOR I>KAMA. 

}j FIFTEEN CE^'TS PER COPY. ( j) 

1 3) 1. MR. AND MRS. PRINGLE, A comic interlude in one act, 7 male, 4 fe- ( 

o> male characters. A very funny afterpeice. A light plot hinging upon the fact <£, 

(;, that Mr. Piingle who has a honor of children, marries as he supposes a -widow ( 

i ( of ahout fifty, without any. The situations as the children appear one by one, a 

l( are very funny. Scene, a "drawing room. Time of performance dominates. 
A 2. A DESPERATE GAME, A comic drama in one act, by John Madison (? ) 

cL Morton, 3 male 2 female characters. Scenery, "simple in-door sets. It is very <• j) 
funny and since its publication has been performed often and with great sue- (, ■> 
cess. Time of performance 45 minutes. Every company should have it. 
fc 3. TEE LADY OF LYONS. Nothing need be said in praise of this play. 

q It is by Bulwer, and has 12 male and 2 female characters. A favorite with all , 

4) great players. It abounds in eloquent declamation. Time of playing, 3 hours. 
Q 4. RICHELIEU. A play in 5 acts, by Bulwer. 12 males and 2 females. r 

<p Time in representation, about 3 hours. 

$ 5. WHEN WOMEN WEEP. A comedietta in 1 act, by J. Newton Gotthold. ( I 

fl) 3 males. 2 females. It is an old saying that if women will weep, their husbands 

Qi or lovers will grant any favor. This shows how it is done. Scenes parlor. ; J 

(j) Time of perfotmance'30 mini;, 

<$) 6. THE STUDIO. An Ethiopean farce in 1 act for 3 males. Very funny. 

(p Some very amusing experience in artist's studio isgiven. Just the farce for ain- 

Q atuer minstrels. Easily produced. Time of performance 20 minutes. 
Q) 7. THE VOW OF THE ORNANI. A drama in 3 acts, by J, Newton Gott- 

<\i) hold, 7 males, 1 female. Capital parts for hading man, two old* men, and leading 

(P lady. Will be found a good drama in every respect. One hour. 

($ 8. THE BETTER HALF. A comedietta in 1 act, by Thos. J. William 

(D male 2 females. Time, present, costumes modern. "Julia" in this play is al- 

<],) ways a favorite character with actresses. We have also a fop, a pout v old fellow, 

(i ) a husband who is not half as much of a man as his wife, etc. A tiptop play. 

( ^ Time of performance 50 minutes. 

(P 9. LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET. A drama in 2 acts by Wm. E, Sutra-, 6 

(£) male 4 females. In addition to being a favorite stock play with the pi 

( ) it is always in good demand from amatuers. The character of Lady Audi© 

( ,■) one of the best for leading lady . It has leading men, old man. and two liist- 

i j class comedy parts. All who have read the celebrated novel by the same name 

( j will want the drama. Time hi representation 1 hour ana 40 minutes. 

(j) 10. STOCKS UP AND STOCKS DOWN. A dialogue in 1 act, 2 male char- 

(£) acievs. Costumes exagerated, evening* and dilapidated, fcene a street. Ex- i 

a) tremcly ridiculous. Time of performance, 10 minutes. 

(J 11. JOHN SMITH. A farce in 1 act by W. Hancock, 5 male 3 femal< < 

(p farce must not be confounded with "Jolin Schmidt," as there is no similarity, k 

( :; this one beingmuch moie^ughable. The character of "Old John Smith" is 

( ) immensely funny, and wiH-kecp an audience in roars of laughter whenever lie 

o appears. A favcritc farce; every character good. Costumes simple. Sconcrv A 

JK plain room. Time of playing, 40 minutes. 

( i) 12. A CAPITAL MA TC1L A comic drama in one act, 3 males, 2 females. 

UP is one of John Madison Morton's best pieces, is very neat and easilv p 

^ 1 lie scenery is simple, can be played in aparlorif necessary. Time 35 niimi 

,j- 13. GIVE ME MY WIFE. A farce in one act by Win. E. Suter, 3 male. I! IV- j 

(Jj) male characters. Easily produced, costumes modern. A dreadful misundcr- t| 

J ; standing in this- farce which the name will imply, Order a copy i will j 

like it. Time of performance; 30 minutes 
mj 14. THE BRIGANDS OF CALABRIA. A Mdo-Drama, in one act, h\ J 

(j„ Wm- ' '■■ Suter, G male, 1 female character. This is a capital play of the bhiod" | 

(i) and-thund( r desei iption, and abounds with sword combats, pistol 

J also has a go< (i i omody man, who always is very funnv, ami verv . 
has always been a greal favorite with all companies w*ho haveplaved 

l of performance ahoul 1 hour. 

IS. AN UNHAPPY PAIR. An Ethiopian Sketch for two charaoh 

J favorite little sketch with all who play it. Costumes exaueratcd. Thi 

*> ^er all over," and ought to be in the hands of ©verv minstrel com pain 

Vj-' nl performance. 10 minutes. 

i 

b Q Z QGC t e 0, 6 QC QCQ C — ?Q&Q* Q^i M-a — h— i — — ^ <*l. 



'& 



THE REWARD OF CRIME, 



■OR THE- 



LOVE OF GOLD. 



A DRAMA OF VERMONT, 



IN TWO A- 



•BY 



t 



W. Henri Wilkins, 



AT'THOR OF, 



the Orphan," "Three Glomes A Di in Bj the Bushel/' 

"Motbi 



With cost of character*, entrance mi of tlie 

rerfortners on tne slage, Description ol Costuiiu-, whole of the stage 

bush. — — ^_ 



in th*>\' 



Entered according to Art cf C 

A. D. AMI 
In the ollice of the Librarian of Congress, at Wi 



CLYDE, 0:- 



A. D. AMES. PUBLISHER. 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. s>? 4V 9 

r IP V 



<? 



CHARACTERS: 



Hazel Greene The Yankee Farmer. 

Hart Hawkins > The Lover. 

Tim Gleason « The Yankee Servant* 

Simon Barrs The Murderer. 

Brandon Coyle The Accomplice. 

Clarinda Greene The Wife. 

Mabel Greene The Daughter. 

Rose Cranberry The Help. 



-PERIOD 1865 to 1868- 



COSTUMES. 
Modern, with suitable changes in tne different scenes 



Time of representation — One hour and thirty minutes. 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS- 
ACT FIRST. — Scene First. — The Greene family — Mrs. Greene's suspicion 
of Simon Barrs — "Don't tnink me a fool wife," reference to the murdered 
son — "Should that time ever come, wife, I'd kill him if I could" — Sur- 
render of Lee — Commencement of the salute — "Whoa! old mare" — "Let 
her vim: I'll pay the damage" 

Scene Second — The -plotters — "If we can't do it one way we must do it 
another" — Unexpected entrance of Tim — "wait" Tim becomes master of 
ceremonies. 

Scene Third — The lovers — "Bewarf of Simon Barrs" — "Money > money" 

«.j')l be true to you forever" — A dish of apples and a drink of cider — A 

hit at the legislature of Vt. — A little unpleasantness between Tim and 
Rose — The Pledge of love — Some of Tim's experiences — "Idiot I'll hang 
you" — "Don't you so much as wiggle."* 

ACT SECOND — Scene First: — Three years later — "Poor husband what a 
change has come over him" — Farmer Greene in the toils — "He loves her to 
destruction" — "He's rich wife, he's rich" — "Yes father I am that person" 

"Hazel you've done a noble act — The farmers early recolections — "If I've 

come to my senses I'll act like a man." 

Scene Second — The storm — the villians at work — "Here's luck. 

Scene Third — Tim's soliloquy — The fatal letter — Rose as a pickpocket — 
."Kill me quick"— "I will never marry you" — Home from Austrailia — 
"Have a cure Hawkins, that's hard talk" — "face your own music Mr. Barrs" 
Confronted with the proof — "Men are you there?" — The response — Sur- 
rounded — Death of Simon Barrs. 

Scene Fourth — A fearful warning — "Our experience, wife has been dear- 
ly bought" — The murderer's explanation — "In the gold mines of Ballarat" 
— Rescue of the Gov. General in the streets of Sydney — Plenty of money 
and good luck — The knot — I'll be a different man — Celebrating the nation's 
birthday — The fathers requast — and Epilogue. 



The Reward of Crime. 



-o- 



>CT I. 

SCENE FIRST— Kitchen of the Greene family— Table l. c. Fireplace 
r. c. — Hazel Greene, front, right of fireplace smoking, elbows on his knees — 
palm-leaf hat hanging against the wall r. c. — Mrs. Greene at table extreme 
L. c. knitting. 

Greene, (taking pipe from his mouth and spitting in fireplace) Seems tu 
mo, Olaricda, that gal's gone a long "while to the office. It's heen now most 
tew hours, and if it wasn't sich a bright moonlight evening, 1 should begi n 
to feel consarned about her. I hope she got my letter in. 

Mrs. G. Never you fear Hazel, Mabel's used to the saddle and the old 
mare will bring her home safe. She's a smart girl, Hazel, if I du say it, 
and one of whom any father or mother may well feel proud. 

Greene. So she is wife, so she is. And folks du say she takes after her 
old daddy, powerful, and that's what's the cause of it. (spits in fireplace. 

Mrs. G. That's your story Hazel, and I'm not disposed to argue. But 
I fear that Simon Barrs has been filling your ears with nonsence. By the 
way, husband, I think he's been paying a little too much attention to Ma- 
bel, for the last few weeks, and I like it not; for I believe he's bad. And 
besides if he is the man he would have us believe, I think he would cease 
his visits, when be knows she's engaged to Hart Hawkins. 

Greene. That's prejudice, wife, nothing but prejudice. While I ac- 
knowledge that Hawkins is a good fellow, I still fail to see anything in him 
to worship, any more than in many other young men, and if Mabel wants 
to let Simon Barrs court her, she's got a perfect right to. And anything 
we say against it, won't help matters. 

Mrs. G. But she doesn't choose to, and that's what's the matter, I can 
see that his attentions are not welcome to her. Nevertheless she tries to 
treat him in a lady-like manner. 

Greene. Of course she does, Clarinda, and I believe she likes him best 
yet. "Why, he's rich, and Hart Hawkins hasn't got a cent in the world. 

(spits in fire. 

Mrs. G. Hazel Greene! don't you judge a man by the clothes he wears, 
the rings he supports or the cane he carries ; cause if ye do you'll get al- 
firedly sucked in. As fer me, I'd rather have one of Hart Hawkin's old 
gloves, than the whole carcass of such a man as Simon Barrs. 

Greene, (spitting in fire) More prejudice, wife, more prejudice. I tell 
you money's a handy article tu have, I find it so, and if ever I say a word 
to Mabel on the subject I shall speak a good word for Simon. But see here 
wife ! I heard this afternoon that Hawkins was going a sea voyage, that 
he had obtained a place on board a merchantman, engaged in the coffee 
and indigo trade, and plying between Australia and some port on the coast 
of Europe. 



4 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

Mrs. G. Why ! husband, how you talk ! When is he going? 

Greene, (spitting) I think not until fall. I don't think he's got any 
very tender attachment that will prevent, and when he is once away you'll 
see Mabel won't think of him once a fortnight. She's always been a duti- 
ful gal, and when she knows I've set my heart on a match between her 
and Simon, she'll consider it her duty to take my advice. 

Mrs. G. But husband, would you command her to marry Simon Barrsif 
you knew she loved another ? 

Greene. Clarinda Green ! what do you take me for ? Don't think me a 
fool if 1 was raised among the backwoods of Vermont. Me command our 
Mabel to marry a man she hated ? I'd die first. And did I not think this 
proposed match would be for the advancement of our daughter's happiness, 
I'd lock the desire close within my own breast. Or, did I once have a sus- 
picion that Simon Barrs is any but the gentleman I take him for, I'd turn 
him from my dcor. (spitting. 

Mrs. G. I'm glad to hear you say so, husband ; I feared the love of 
money was turning your head. But had you thought that it was eight 
years ago to-night, since our Frank was killed, shot down like a dog in the 
streets; and for what? Money! husband, money! And during all these 
years not a trace has been obtained of the hand that committed the awful 
deed. 

Greene, (spitting) Oh, wife! how I have searched for the murderer of 
ourdear boy. I never meet a stranger even now, without a momentary 
feeling of distrust. And during all these years the one prayer of my life 
has been to meet the monster face to face. I think that such a meeting, 
would for the time, turn this old heart to stone, and these arms into bars 
of steel. Should that time ever come, wife, I'd kill him if I could. 

Mabel, (outside, l.) Whoa Fanny ! (calling) Tim Gleason come here 
and take the old mare ! Come, stir your lazy stumps ! 

Enter Mabel, l. 
No mail father, but I've got something better. 

Greene. Well, well! gal don't keep me waiting, out with it. 

Mabel. Oh ! father, Lee's surrendered his whole army, and the war is 
as good as ended. 

Mrs. G. Well, well, that does beat all, tell us more about it. 

Mabel. Yes, yes, mother, (looking l.) Where's Tim? Why don't he 
come and put up old Fan ? 

Mrs. G. He and Rose are out traipsin' 'round some'rs. She'll catch her 
death cold in sich weather. 

Mabel, (looking h.) There they are now, out under the elm. Well, you 
see father, when I got down to the village, I saw little squads of men all 
around the streets and the flag at full mast on the common, and when I got 
to the office I learned the cause. I stopped to get all the information I 
could, but at last I heard the boys were going to fire a salute, in honor of 
the event; so thinks I to myself, I'd better be going, tor I knew the noise 
would put the old mare in Yankee-doodle spirits. You'll hear it father, 
soon. "When it's eight by the village clock. 

Greene. The sooner the better child. This has been a long and bloody 
war wife, but at last victory is ours — we triumph in the right, (pause, clock 
in room R., strikes eight, at its close a heavy gun is heard in the distance) Hear 
that wife. Welcome sound, (looking l.) Whoa old mart I There, Tim's 
come to his senses at last. 

Enter Hose, L. 

Jxosc. What is it Mabel, more news ? I heard a gun just now. 

Mabel. Yes Rose, the glorious victory that brings to an end this bloody 
war. Ob, how I long for the return of the noble soldiers, who have periled 
their lives that we might enjoy our freedom. Does this sentiment find no 
approval in your he:irt, Rose? 

liose. (striking her breast) You bet it docs ! 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 5 

Mabel. Why, Rose, what an expression. t 

Hose. Well, I don't care. There ain't no use of my trying to be high, 
toned, for I couldn't if I would, and what's more, I wouldn't if I could. 
But I do love the soldiers and some that ain't soldiers. But come, Mabel, 
let's go up to our room and sit by the window and listen to the firing. OhJ 
it's a lovely evening, {gun) Hear that, will you. Come? 

Mabel. Yes, Rose I will go. (goes to door, a.', slops and turns) Why don't 
you come, Rose? 

Hose, (looking about her) I do believe I've lost my handkerchief. Oh 
no, here it is. (takes it out of pocket and snaps it — going a. 

Greene. I declare Rose, what ye got on yer han'kercher? It smells 
wuss'n a skunk. 

Rose. It'3 "Night Blooming Melancholy." Have some Mr. Greene? 
(Snaps handkerchief in his face) Come Mabel, I'm ready — "scoot". 

(both exit, l. 

Mrs. G. I don't know what under the sun is going to become of that 
gal. You can't find her ecal in the whole state of "Vermont. 

Greene. Clarinda, I never heard you complain of Rose's not attending 
tu her duties, and as long as she does that, du let her have a little fun. I 
don't want any of these wooden headed, taller faced critters mopin' 'round 
me. (gun) 

Enter Ti7n, l. 

Tim. Say, Boss, what in thunder's the racket? What's the row down 
in the village ? Shouldn't wonder if them rebs had got another darned 
lickin.' 

Greene. Better'n that, Tim, better'n that. Old Lee has found out he 
was barking Up the wrong tree, and has handed over his meat cutter to Gen. 
Grant, together with his whole army. 

Mrs. G. I vum ! I must see to my yeast or we sha'n't have any bread 
to-morrow ! (exit, r. 

Tim- (taking Mrs. Greene's chair and putting his feet on the table) Well 
Boss, I'm glad the boys are comin' home. I've had more'n a dozen gals to 
beau 'round ever since the war commenced. 

Greene. ■ Well Tim, you've been quite reconciled to your fate, or I'm no 
judge. 

Tim. That sounds bully. If I ever took anything, this would be one of 
them t mes. But I go on the temperance principle. ISTow I never had any 
particular hankerin' arter a man that, sold rum or drank '« There's Jin. 
Fletcher, he used to dish out pails-full of it over to Cornish', out since lie's 
been keepin' the "Green Mountain House" up at Pittsfield, he dont sell a drop 
Yer see that's a temperance town, and the folks do say that's the best 
tavern they've had there for years. Now there's that Simon Barrs, 
and that Brandon Coyle, I've seen them lately, when I thought they's pret- 
ty well guzzelled. I tell you what 'tis, Mr. Greene, I don't think that Bran- 
don Coyle is about here for any good. He's loungiu' away his time down to 
the hotel, and once or twice he's been over to the diggin's pretendin' 
he's prospectiir fer gold, and between you and I, Boss, I believe he told the 
truth. But depend upon it, he's lookin fer the manufactured article, and 
my opinion is, he'll take it wherever he can find it. 

Greene. Well, Tim Gleason — bless your honest heart — my opinion i3 
you've got a wrong idea in regard tu them two gentlemen. You know prej- 
udice goes a long way Tim, that's what I tell Clarinda. (gun. 

Tim. What in fury is he hangin' 'round here fer duin' nothin' ? And 
there's Barrs, my opinion is, he ain't much better. I tell you what 'tis 
boss, I'd like tu hav' 'em both yoked up and hitched tu a side-hilled plow, 
down on the medder bymeby. I'd like tu drive em tu break up about an 
acre'n a half. 

Greene. Tim Gleason, you have your 'pinion, and I have mine— which 
both on us has a perfect right tu. But really I don't think you speak of 
those gentlemen in sich a manner as gentlemen should be spoken of. 



« THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

Tim. Them's my sentiments exactly, and if I had the least idea they 
wa'n't regular devils I'd swaller every word I've said — I would I swan ! 
But, say, Mr. Greene don't you think Simon Barrs is gettin' pretty numer- 
ous 'round Mabel ? 

Greene. Well, what of that? 

Tim. Nothin' only I thought I'd tell ye. 

Mrs. G. (from back c. calling) Come Hazel it's gettin' tu be most bed 
time, and you know you've got tu bile that sap tumorrer. 

Greene. Yes Clarinda, I'm a comin' (gun) That's a good one. Such 
music as that will sooth me tu sleep, I know. . (exit, o. 

Tim. (getting iip) Now the case stands just like this, zactly. Brandon 
Cciyle and Simon Barrs are tew miserable scamps — Barrs in particular, and 
I'm goin' tu keep an eye open for him. He's soft soaped old Greene over 
pretty slick ; but 'twont work on me 'cause 1 don't use soap. He means tu 
get a slice of the old man's money and Mabel into the bargain. But he 
can't du it. (strikes his hands together) Mabel hates him, and I hate nim, 
and if he goes to swellin' round her much more, I'll "pull down hi3 vest" 
for him. Hart Hawkins, lie's goin' tu Australia. That's bad 'cause he's 
sot his life on Mabel Greene and if it wan't fer pride and poverty he never'd 
go. But I a'n't goin' tu stand 'round and see any underhanded business 
goin' on. If it was my case and that varmint was after Rose, you'd see me 
tear 'round some. Well, I s'pose it's 'bout bed time, (hangs vp his hat, as 
the scene closes he is removing coat and boots) But a feller can't sleep much 
its so darned noisy, (gun) Let her bim, I'll pay the damage. 

CURTAIN. 



SCENE SECOND— Two months later— Coyle's room in the Kedron Hotel— 
Coyle ar\d Barrs seated at table, front, c, on which are bottles and glasses — 
Coyle in his shirt sleeves and slippers, is filling up glasses. 

Coyle. Take a drop partner, then I'll listen to a recital of your plans. 
Do you think old Greene will swallow our bait ? 

Burrs. That depends upon how we play our cards, (both drink) With 
the plan I propose, 1 think we will be able to get our fingers on some of the 
oM man's money, and also work ourselves into the good graces of the two 
girls. 

Coyle. I have serious doubts there Simon. Perhaps Greene's gal will 
allow you to make love to her ; but that Rose Cranberry is a regular little 
wild-cat. 

Burrs. You are faint hearted now Coyle. I tell you we will accomplish 
our desires. If we can't do it one way, we must do it another. That's too 
good a chance to let slip. It will take time Bran, but we can afford to wait, 
for if our little game succeeds — and it must — we'll rake in a nice little pile. 
In the mean time I shall have to draw on you lor funds, and to tell the 
truth I'm getting in pressing need of them, for I must make old Greene 
think I've got oceans of money. 

V. Of course Simon — call on me, I've got a few shiners left. 

Burrs. 1 sha'n't be bashful, it isn't like one of my nature. By the way, 
I don't think I've been overwell paid for the several little jobs I've done 
for you, especially, Brandon Coyle. the, one I finished in this section eight 
ago. I tell you what 'tis partner, that took courage as well as pa- 
tience. 

<•. So it did Simon, you did it slick too. You covered your tracks as 
completely as if they had been made on the bottom of the ocean. Fill up 
your glass Simon, I'll do the square thing by you, never fear. Besides, you 
ought to be satisfied with Mabel fireene, "she's the one who has got "the 



m 
the 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 7 

money, while the Rose you've left me has nothing but thorns, (both drink) 

Barrs. You see Coyle, the night I settled Frank Green's account, every 
thing was in my favor. At the time old Greene was largely engaged in the 
butter speculation. I knew he was expecting the money in payment for a 
large shipment he had made a few days previous. I saw Frank Greene go 
to the express office. I followed. I saw him come out and place a package 
in his breast, I dogged his footsteps. The night was black as ink. I 
overtook him at the cross roads and— well you know— I got a cool thousand. 
What if the little beauty, his sister, knew of this interesting chapter in 
my history : wouldn't these parts be warm for me ? Ha, ha, ha ! 

Coyle. Have a care Simon, walls have ears sometimes. But, come, away 
with all this ! Let me know what you propose to do in the approaching cam- 
paign. 

Barrs. First I must manage to get a hold on the old man's money bags ; 
then I fancy the other matter will be comparatively casv. To do this 1 must 
have plenty of manufactured security. With my notes and stocks in the 
Sugar River Rail Road, and a good story of the wonderful benefits to be de- 
rived from an investment in the Michigan Copper Mining company, I im- 
agine the old yankee will swallow the bait with verv little chewing. 

Coyle. But you forget, Simon, there's a suspicious pair of eyes in that Ti 
Gleason's head ; and then there's Hawkins, he despises you as he does tl 
Evil One himself. 

Barrs. What ails you to night Coyle ? Where's your backbone ? Do you 
think I'd let such an idiot as Tim Gleason, block my path ? As for Haw- 
kins, he's soon to sail for Australia and when once he's away I'll take good 
care that he doesn't visit Vermont again in a hurry, and I'll place a gulf 
between him and Mabel Greene, wider than the Atlantic ocean itself, {rises 
and Jills both glasses) Here's to your health, Brandon Coyle, and to the suc- 
cess of our little undertaking. May the day be not far'distant, when the 
beautiful Mabel Greene shall become the wife of Simon Barrs (both drink 

Enter Tim, r. 

Tim. What'd er say ? {Coyle, h. c. Barrs, c. Tim, R. C.) 

Coyle. (aside— advancing to front, l. c.) Heavens ! He's overheard our 
conversation, (appears confused) 

Barrs. Sir, why do you enter here in this unceremonious manner? 

Tim. Well, I didn't know but what you'd like to come up and help the 
boss hoe out them taters. Help's scarce, and he needs some one powerful 
bad, (aside) and I thought you's as brtd as any one, (slaps back of his hand) 
Confound them merskeeters. 

Barrs. What's all this to me? 

Tim. Nothin' only I thought I'd tell ye. 

Coyle. It is generally customary to knock before entering a gentleman's 
room. 

Tim. I always do squire, whenever I find 'em. 

Coyle. Do you mean to insult me ? 

Tim. Ob, no squire, I don't know enough fer that. 

Barrs. Come, come ! Coyle no words here, (aside to Coyle) W T ait! (to Tim) 
Will you take a drop Mr. Gleason. 

Tim. Well, L don't care if I don't, (slaps his face) Darn them pesky crit- 
ters they'll swaller a feller whole pretty soon — I never make a practice of 
drinkin' any thing stronger'n old cider; but when you come to raw whisky, 
a man as is a man won't touch it. 

Coyle. (starting) Say that again and I'll knock you down. 

Tim. Oh, go soak yer feet. ( Coyle makes a dive at him, Tim catches him by 
the collar, at the same time tripping and throws him on floor, c.flat on his face 
Barrs then straightway attacks Tim, tvho plants a blow on his breast, knocking 
him down, as he falls he strikes the prostrate body of Coyle and falls across him 
at nearly right angles. As Barrs turns on his face to get up, stilllying across 



8 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

Coyles body, Tim jumps on the back of Barrs and standing there says) Let her 
bim I'll pay the damage. 

QUICK CURTAIN. 



SCENE THIRD — Room same as in Scene first — Hawkins and Mabel seated 
at table centre of stage. 

Hawk. Mabel, remember it is for your sake tbat I have determined 
upon this undertaking, and which I trust in the end will be lor our mutu- 
al advantage. 

Mabel. If it is for my sake Hart, then stay at home. Think of the dan- 
gers which beset your path in such au undertaking as this. Pardon me 
Hart, but it's naught but your foolish pride which prompts you to ibis ac- 
tion. 

Hawk. Foolish or not, Mabel, I have weighed the subject well in all its 
bearings, and have made up my mind in accordance with my honest con- 
victions of what is best. My love for you would bid me stay ; but my duty 
to you bids me go. And Mabel as this eyening is our last before I depart let 
it not be a gloomy one. 

Mabel. I'll try, but my heart is far from gay. Three years you know is 
a long time to wait, and the thought of these many dreary days, fills my 
soul with misgivings. Look well to yourself, Hart, and beware i»f Simon 
Barrs, for unless I am a poor judge of human nature, he is a bad man, and 
how my lather can be so blinded by his flattering ways, I can not under- 
stand. "Why, the very sight of that man, causes a chill to my heart, and 
why it is I know not, for he is always smiling and pleasant. But friend or 
foe to me, depend upon it he's an enemy to you. 

Hawk. I am well assured of that, Mabel, dear, and you as well as my- 
self know the reason why. He imagines I stand between you and him — 
that were it not for me he could marry you. Mabel his greatest favor in 
your father's estimation is his money. Strip him of his supposed -wealth, 
and your father's estimate of him would be brought to a level with that of 
many other young men of his acquaintance — Hart Hawkins for instance. 

Mab. Money, money ! that word has been rung in my ears so often that 
I almost hate the very sound of it. While 1 must admit, partially, the 
truth of what you say, I yet believe my father respects you as a man or he 
never would have given his consent to our engagement. Yet 1 cannot 
deny that a large bank account to my father's mind is an absolute necessi- 
ty for a young man engaged in any of the active duties of life. 

Hawk. What such a scheming villain, as 1 believe Simon Barrs to be, 
will resort to I kuownot; but of this much I am well aware. He will never 
give up his base intentions as long as he thinks there is the least possibility 
of turning the tide of circumstances in his favor. Mabel, my greatest anx- 
iety, while 1 am away, will be, that you will become a victim ot his evil 
persecutions. Whether, or not, you will be true to me I need uot ask. 

Mab. Dear Hart, whether living or dead, I'll be true to you forever. 
(bows her head o?i her hand) 

Enter Rose, b., with waiter, on which is a dish of apples, plates, 
knives, etc. — Placing waiter on table. 

Hose. Aren't them beauties? Which will you have, Mr. Hawkins — 
sweet or sour? Why, I declare ! how lonesome you do look. And Mabel, 
too. But, come try these, (pushing a plat*, of them towards him, and filling 
the other plates) 

Hawk. Thank you, Rose, I know they are splendid. 

Hose. How can you tell before you try them ? 

Hawk, (smiling) By the looks of them, Miss Rose. Now, the first time 
I ever saw you, 1 knew you were good. 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 9 

Enter Tim. r,, with a pitcher of cider, and glasses. 

Tim. (at door, r.) And I can swear tu that, 'squire, coz I've tasted uv 
her. 

Rose, {throws an apple at him, which he manages to dodge) Tim Gleason 
stop your noise. ( Tim advances to table, Jills glasses— Mabel takes a plate of 
apples — Rose does the same, and sits in chair, extreme L.) 

Hawk. What have you there, Tim ? 

Tim. Cider. Hev a drop, Mr. Hawkins ? Help yourself, and drink all 
ye want, (during the following, Tim takes an apple, drinks a glass of cider, 




certain things. Now, I don't believe a whole pail-full of cider would effect 
me one darned hooter. (Mabel and Hawkins are eating and drinking and en- 
gaged in fragments of conversation, in a loio tone and exchanging smiles and 
significant glances, as Tim is talking) Some ov them critters in the Legisla- 
tor up tu Montpelier, tried tu git a bill passed compellin' a man tu drink 
his own apple-juice, and making it a crime tu sell or give away cider after 
it was thirty days old ; but the bill did not pass.* 

Rose. Yes, and some old fogy introduced a bill for the protection of 
skunks.* 

Tim. Probably the old fool never had any experience with one ov them 
quadrupeds. Say, Rose, don't you remember that night when I's comhi' 
home from the village ; down there by them elder-berry bushes, I see some- 
thing runnin' along in the ditch: so I grabbed a rail off from the fence and — 

Rose. Tim Gleason, we can dispense with that experience. 

Tim. That's what 1 thought; but the skunk didn't seem to think so. 
(goes to table, drinks, continues eating apples ail the while) 

Mab. Rose, are not these apples delicious? 

Rose. Bully. 

Mab. Rose Cranberry! What did you say? 

Rose. I used a slang phrase, and I said it before I thought; but it's just 
like me. Pray, excuse me, Mr. Hawkins. 

Haiok. 0! certainly, Miss Rose. 

Mab. Tim, where are father and mother? Perhaps they would have 
come in. 

Tim. No, I told yer pa, and he said, no, he'd read a spell and then go tu 
bed. Yer ma, she was slicin' apples fer a dumpjin' tu-marrer, and said 
she would not come in tu night. She wanted me to give her best wishes tu 
Mr. Hawkins, and Oh, Mabel! I like tu forgot, shesaid she wished you and 
him tu meet her in the parlor for a short time. I tell yer what, Mabel, I 
know what's the matter. She'll wait 'till your pa's abed, coz she's some- 
thin' particular tu say tu Mr. Hawkins. 

Mab. Very well, Tim. If you will excuse us, I think we'll go now. 
(rises) Come, Hart, father is probably in bed, or will be soon, and 1 am 
very anxious that mother shall see you. (Hawkins rises) 

Tim. Oh! never mind u-4, Miss Mabel. Rose and I will try and pass 
away the rest of the evening someway. Good night, Mr. Hawkins, I'll see 
you off to-morrow. (Hawkins and Mabel exit, r.) It's somethin' about them 
two miserable cusses down tu the hotel, (comes back to chair) They're tryin' 
tu play some game on the old man, pretendin' they're interested in the 
Michigan Copper Mining Company and lots of other big soundin' humbugs. 
They've been workin' their way into Greene's favor, all summer. Mrs. 
Greene sees through their mask of deceit; but her husband won't hear a 
word to any one. He thinks they are the very models of perfection. I 
think they are the very models of deviltry 1 Hazel Greene, look out for 

* A fact. 



10 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

yer money. Hart Hawkins, look out fer yer girl. Tim Gleason, gather your 
Cranberries. 
Hose. Tim, what nonsense are you getting off now? 

Tim. I was thinkin' I'd got tu keep an eye on Brandon Coyle. The 
villain's got an idea he's goin' to coop you, Rose. 

Hose. Let him dare open his mouth to me, and I'll give him a piece of 
my mind, "you can bet your stamps on that." 

Tim. That's the right kind of spirit, Rose, (aside) By gosh, ha'n't she got 
the ginger! (aloud) "Come, bring your chair over, side uv mine, an' let's 
have a little sociability together. 

Hose Not much ! i like you well enough : but I a'n't goin' tu foller you 
arotmd, 'or any other man.' If you want my company, come where I am. 

Tim. I ha'n't never made it a practice tu run arter the gals, and I don't 
think I'll commence now. 

Rose. Stay where you are, then, I'm willing. 

Tim. So be it. I can stand it if you can 

Rose. If you didn't want me, what did you say so for? 

Tim. I didn't. 

Rose. I say you did. 

Tim. (rising) Let it be distinctly understood, that I didn't say so. (sits 

Rose. What did you say, then ? 

Tim. I told you to take your chair and bring it over here, side uv me — I 
wanted it to rest my feet in. 

Rose. Tim Gleason, you are the sauciest man I ever saw. 

Tim. I don't commence with you — Nuisance 1 you are nothin' but sass, 
an' sour sass tu. 

Rose. Will you please explain yourself, sir? What do you mean? 

Tim. I had reference when I spoke, tu Cranberry sass. 

Rose. Tim Gleason ! 

Tim. Yes, that's rne — Timothy Hucklebuster Gleason. 

Rose. Do you know what you're talking about? That's an insult, (rises 
and stamps her foot) and don't you dare repeat it ; 

Tim. Sho! then I won't; but I tell you what I will do: I'll meet yer 
half way. Let's not have any hard feelings. 

Rose. Now you are eomin' to your senses, (both bring chairs to c, at L. 
of table — Tim "fills two glasses with cider) Let's have a good talk together. 

Txm. "Well then, this mess of gab, you don't call talkin, du ye? But 
come, (hands glass) I ask yer pardon. Will you pledge me your love in a 
glass uv this? (takes other glass 

Rose. With pleasure, (holds up glass) Here's to my love in the sparkling 
glass. 

Tim. (holding up glass) May I ever be fond of Cranberry sass. (both drink) 
I bwow that's good. Come, my dear, let's sit down and have a little "teter- 
tc-te." Hadn't ye better take another apple? I swan, I guess I will, (takes 
one and goes to earing it) I allefa did like apples. I'm darn'd glad we're goin' 
to hev an apple dumplin' to-xharrer ; there's nothin' 1 dote on more'n them. 
Mrs. Greene, she makes 'em purty fair ; but she can't quite come up tu 
iiKirm. She used tu take a hull pan full uv flour, with sallyratus, sour milk, 
kerosene and all them fixins. Then she'd take a hull stack uv apples an' 
r"ll into it. and bile it in a big piller case, then ta.Ke it out smokin' hot and 
p iur a hull lot uv linament over it. 1 tell you what 'tis Rose, it makes putty 
homstackuos eaten'. 

Rose. To judge by your description any one would think that eating 
apple-dura pi inga is the heighth of your ambition. 

Tim. Well, it a'n't : there's a good many other things I hanker arter. 
Firstly and foremostly, I like you, Rose, (puts his arm around her and 
kisses her) 

Rose. Of all this world ! Tim Gleason, don't you dare do that again. 

(slaps his face 
Tim. Never a rose without a thorn. You a'n't a bit like cousin Minnie — 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 11 

Cousin Minnie, she lives up tu Sherborn, and it's the darndest place tu git 
tu, you ever see in the world. It begens tu snow there, right arter hayin' 
time, and blows like a hurrycane all winter and don't go off 'til the corn 
begins tu cum up in the spring. 

Rose. Do you expect any one tu believe that? 

Tim. Pow can 1 tell 'til I try 'em? But it's a fact, when I was comin' 
down the mountain, I froze both ears harder'n a flint, an' cousin Minnie, 
she thawed 'em out with milk and water, then arter that, we sot down tu 
supper; but I couldn't eat only seven or eight warm biscuit, my ears smart- 
ed so. In the evenin' we all played keerds, and mighty ! Cousin Minnie 
and I cleaned out everything that tackled us. 

iEo.se. Well, I declare ! that Cousin Minnie, as you call her, must be a 
wonderful creature. 

Tim. You're right there ; but you needn't worry, Rose, I a 'n't forgettin' 
you. Say, give me another smack, will you ? 

Hose. 0, Tim ! aren't you ashamed? 

Tim. (kisses her) Not a mite — I wouldn't mind a dozen just like 'em. 
(knock heard l.) Oh thunder ! Say, Rose, shall 1 let 'em in ? 

Rose, (jumps up) Of course. Why don't you go and see who it is? 

Tim. I don't care, (knock) Come in. 

Enter Simon Barrs. 

Barrs. Good evening, Mr- Gleason. I beg to be excused for intruding 
upon you at this late hour ; but I would like to see the master of the house. 
Ah ! pardon me Miss Cranberry. Good evening. (extending haul 

Rose, (turning scornfully away and waving him off) No sir, 1 decline the 
honor. 

Barrs. But Miss Cranberry, surely 

Rose. — h bother ! 

Tim. (unbuttoning his coat — in a loud xchisper.) Rose if you say so, I'll lick 
him in half a minute. "(buttons coat 

Barrs. Surely, Miss Cranberry, I have never given you cause for such 
conduct. 

ixo.se. Simon Barrs. if you have any errand, please state it. (going k.) 
You will please excuse me. (exit r. 

Barrs. i repeat, Mr. Gleason, can I see y<uir master.' 

Tim. I suppose you can if you go where he is. 

Barrs. (aside) I will have to humor this fellow, (aloud) Will you take 
me to him ? 

Tim. Yes, and another chap just like you. (about to take him in his arms 

Barrs. Come, come, that's a good joke; but tell me where I can rind Mr. 
Greene. 

Tim. Sha'n'tduit. 

Barrs. Then I must find him without. (goes R. 

Tim. (unbuttoning clothes as before) See here, squire, don't you remember 
I paid you a short visit down tu the Kedron uwtel, last spring? 

Barrs. (aside) 1 do to my sorrow, (aloud) Well, well, that's long past I 
don't bear any malice on that score, (aside) How shall 1 manage this fellow ? 
(aloud) But really 1 must see your master. My business is of importance. 

Tim. So's his'n. 

Barrs. What is he doing? 

Tim. Snoring, most likely. 

Barrs. Idiot ! I'll brain you. (starts for Tim who squares off— Barrs 
hesitates) 

Tim. Well, that's what you're most in need uv. (Tim advances, Barrs 
backs of) Say, do you want to pawn any superfluous hide, over your eye? 

Barrs. (starting — clenches his hands — leans forward) Fool! you have been 
a stumbling block in my path long enough. I'll put an end to your career 
at once, (mukes a movement to his breast as for a revolver — Tim anticipates 



12 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

the movement and quickly draws one from his ovm pocket and presents it to the 
face of Barrs before he gets his hand on his own.) 

Tim. Not quite so fast. Do you see that ? Don't ye so much as wiggle. 
Hand over that speakin' trumpet, quick ! Do ye he?r ? Or I'll let yer bars 
down mighty sudden. {Tim advances — Barrs hands him his revolver, with it 
Tim points to door, l. — Barrs dodges) Villian 1 Fiend I Monster 1 Boa 
Constrictor ! there's the door, WIGGLE ! 

TABLEAU. 

TIM, E. F. BABES, C. B. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 

SCENE FIRST. — Three years later — Kitchen of the Greene family, same 
as act first scene .first, with a few changes of picture, furniture &c. — Hazel 
Greene at frevlace, k. c, with newspaper and candle, reading very intently — 
Mrs. Greene, extreme l. c, picking over beans, candle burning on table beside 
her. 

Mrs. G. {sol Hi qui sing) Poor husband ! what a change has come over him 
within the last three years. Over work and anxiety is fast wearing him 
out. As soon as his day's work is done, he takes his paper, and his whole 
attention is taken up in reading the stock reports, until he goes to bed. 
Day after day, night after night, whether sleeping or waking, his whole mind 
seems to be centered on money matters. He watches the fluctuations of the 
stock market with a feverish anxiety ; until I begin to have fears that his 
reason will be shattered. And Simon Barrs is at the bottom of it all-. That 
man seems to have my poor husband completely in his power; but how 
much of his money he has succeeded in getting, I cannot tell. And my 
poor Mabel : between the pleadings of her father and the untiring persecu- 
tions of Barrs, not one moments peacR of mind has she enjoyed since Hart 
Hawkins left us nearly three years ago. Poor Hart! what has become of 
him ? Not one word Irom him since he weut away ! What can it mean ? 
Surely if he is living we should have heard from him in some way. What 
did Mabel mean by telling him to beware of Simon Barrs? Can it be that 
there is some secret gnawing at her heart, which she has not revealed? 
Does Simon Barrs know anything about the mysterious silence of Hart 
Hawkins ? Has he dared threaten our Mabel? If I thought — but no Hart 
Hawkins is perhaps lost to us forever. 

Greene, {reading to himself) One-hundred-and-twenty shares at twenty- 
eight per cent, advance from last quotation. That's good. I always knew 
there's money there, and depend on't, Hazel Greer e, they're goin' higher. 
I wish I had a thousand or two handy, I'd make a venture there ; but still, 
I've do cause to complain. My investments are paying heavy interest now. 
1 let Simon have five thousand dollars, two years ago, and over. That's 
paid me ten per cent, every year, and the other day I let him have another 
five thousand. I hope to make him one of the family before long. 
Simon's sharp ; he knows how to get money. 

Mrs. G. Ah husband! but are you sure it's perfectly safe? 

Greene, {starting and turns chair partially) Eh, wife! you here? Safe! 
What, do you think I'm blind I Hasn't Simon always met his payments 
promptly ? He's as solid as any bank in Vermont. 

Mrs. G. I wish I could feel sure of it Hazel; but ten thousand dollars is 
a large sum to place in any man's hands. I hope it's all right husband ; 
but I have my doubts. 

Greene. That's just the way with you. You're always mistrustm' some- 
thin' 'bout everybody. Simon never gave us cause to doubt him, did he, 
Clarinda? Besides, I've got good security for more'n double the amount. 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 13 

Mrs. G. But whv does he force his unwelcome attentions upon Mabel ? 
If he had been a gentleman, he would have left her in peace long ago. 
Certainly he knows his protestations are distastful to her. 

Greene. Clarinda, Simon loves the gal tu destraction, and she'd consent- 
ed tu marry him, long ago if it hadn't been fer you. 

Mrs. G. Ho loves her to destruction, more likely ; but husband did you 
not sanction her engagement to Hart Hawkins. , , . 

Greene. Well, what if I did. He's dead long ago. Or, if he is alive, 
he's as dead tu her, or she would hev heard from him, and besides it s time 
she was gettin' married, Clarinda, an' Simon '11 make her a good husband. 
He's rich wife, he's rich. . 

Mrs. G. Is money the one great essential for a man in this worm, 
Hazel? Do bags of gold overbalance the weighty sins of a wicked man? 
I believe husband, that money is getting to be your Evil Genius, and that 
Simon Barrs will never be content 'till Mabel is in his power, and every 
cent of vour fortune is under his control ; but rather than see our daughter 
wed to him, 1 would go forth penniless, into the streets, and beg my living 
from door to door. 

Enter Mabel l. — stops. 

Greene, (comes forward) I tell von what, wife, the world may profess to 
dispise money ; but a brute who has it, receives more honor than a good 
man without it. Money is the missing link that joins respect to the disre- 

spectable. , . . L . ,,_ „, .+ 

Mab. But father, granting what you say to be true, is it right? Should 
we ignore the noble and God-given qualities in a person, because of their 
poverty? Again : should we reverence a man around whose name, there 
rests a cloud of darkness, although he be the possesser of a mountain of 
gold ? No, never ! we should not base our opinion ot a person by the out- 
side appearance which he presents to the world. All the true, the noble 
and heaven-born principles which constitute the true man, lie within. 

Greene. Well, well, child, we were speaking of Simon. Is there a per- 
son who can speak the truth and say a word against his character? 

Mab. Yes father, a thousand times yes. 1 am that person. father 1 
tell you now, as I have told vou many times before, that Simon Barrs is a 
wicked man. I have told you, 1 did not love him ; I tell you now, I hate 
him, and will never marrv him. I am sorry to disobey you, lather; but 
sometime vou will see your mistake in giving him encouragement, and be- 
lieve me, father, the time is not far distant, when the true character ot that 
man will be shown to the world— blacker than Egyptian darkness. 
J7r.s G. (to herself) I'm proud to be that girls mother. 
Greene. Oh, Mabel ! I can't believe what you say. I know you re not 
light headed. I know vou don't speak in this way without a weighty reas- 
on , but I can't believe 'that he is as bad as you would have me think. JNo, 
Mabel, I will not compel you to marry this man. I once made a vow, Id 
die before I'd force you to marry a man you did not love. Well as 1 like 
money, I'll never sell ray own daughter to gain it. v. ■ 

Mab. Oh, bless you, father ! you know not the comfort those words give 



me 



Mrs. G There, then that job's done. I must go and put 'em to soaTc. 
(takes beans— qoes to Greene) Hazel, you've done a noble act, and no one 
will bless you more then I. I have feared that gold was the curse of your 
life. I am glad your eyes are opened at last, {puts arm around him— kisses 

Greene, (smiles) Ah, Mabel, your ma's growing young again. _ 

Mab. And so am l father, I hav'n't felt so happy for years, (kisses him— 
fori f xl \ 

' Greene, (pauses-meditates . c.) Am I a fool ? No ; but I've acted like one. 
That kiss of my dear old wife, and her happy smiling face, awakened rec- 
ollections, which have slumbered for years, while I m my greedy thirst for 



14 THE BE WARD OF CRIME. 

gold have been dead to all tender emotions. It awoke within me the mem- 
ory of earlier days, when I was young. Yes, and to the time when I hadn't 
a cent in the world. When my dear old wife — God bless her — saw fit to 
link her fate with mine. I forgot that I was poor once. Let Simon Barrs be 
good or bad, I'll encourage him no more. Will he prove f.ilse to my trust 
when he learns the truth ? Has he blinded my eyes and ctiU^ht me in my 
own trap? No; I cannot believe it; but what matters it to me? If "i 
have been a fool I'll bear the consequences like a man. Ten thousand dol- 
lars is a large sum to loose ; but the old farm's left and I'm getting old. 
Soon I shall be where the value of gold is unknown. The old place is good 
for another ten thousand, and Mabel will have it all when I am gone. But 
what am I saying? — Simon '11 pay — Simon '11 pay; but if 'tis lost, I've 
enough left, and to spare. Death may foreclose his mortgage on me ; but 
he can't touch the old farm. exit :.. 

CURTAIN. 



SCENE SECOND — Kedron Hotel, nearly same as Act first, Scene first — 
Brandon Coyle pacing up and, down the room — as curtain rises thunder is heard. 

Coyle. Can anything have happened? Simon should have been here 
this morning, and it is now after eight o'clock. Can there be trouble ? No^ 
surely not. Simon don't know w r hat trouble means. I wish this confounded 
business was euded, and it must be soon. We've managed our little affair 
pretty well, though — been seen in each others company but very liitle. 
No one suspects but what I am an honest miner, and Barrs an industrious 
speculator — ready to turn his hand to anything that will bring him in a 
a penny. They're about right there too. Ha, ha ! And my little mining 
operation has brought me in a nice little sum. (lightning) The two men I'v< 
kept at work have added a nice little sum to my account, (thunder) What 
a night, (rain) I should not like to be caught out in such a deluge. 

Enter Barrs, n. 

Bless my soul ! Did you rain down ? Why! there's not a feather ruffled. 
Sit down. 

Barrs. (both drink) I left my coat and umbrella in the hall ; but why d«> 
I find you shut up here alone? You got the note I sent you, of course ? 

Coyle. Your note? No, I have not received it. 

Barrs. (jumping up) What 1 did you not receive a note from me last 
night? 

yle. I certainly did not. Please explain. 

Barrs. It means, then, that I've got to look out for my neck. I was a 
fool f«»r ever trusting it to that boy. 1 should have seen you instead. If it 
is destroyed, I do not care. I hope the little brat made it into wads for his 
pop-gun. 

Coyle. Well, well, ten to one, it is where it will never be discover- 
ed. It is destroyed, probably. What was in it that frets you so? 

Barrs. Enough, I should say. If that letter falls into any bodies hand, I 
should, straightway have an invitation to a neck-tie sociable, down at Wind- 
sor. You see partner, Bill Butterfly's got a soft little job there at Rutland, 
BO he wanted me to meet him there at the "Coffee House." this morning. 1 
hadn't time to come and find you, so I wrote you a note, and sent it by 
'squire Deans little imp of the gutter. I told you to take 'your traps, and 
meet us at the "notch." You see Bill gwt his plans all laid for a little bon- 
fire. Well, after I arrived at the "Coffee House," we started for the place of 
ting, after waiting thereuntil the middle of the afternoon, and yon not 
putting in an appearance; I knew something must be wrong, so we '"'put the 
• over," as the lawyers say, and 1 hastened back, and here I am. 

(lightning 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 15 

Coyle. Ha, ha, ha ! So I see ; but I fail to see any great cause to fear. 

{thunder 

Barrs. But you haven't heard the worst, in that letter I happened to 
mention making a h r le in a certain chap. Fool, that I was. 

Coyle. Away with all such fears. Time enough for the fox to run, after 
the hounds start. {goes to cupboard) Here's something that will put 
new courage into you. {puts bottle and glasses on table 

Barrs. Well, that's what we've got to have. 1 tell you old pard, the 
sooner we finish our business in this section, aud take up our quarters in 
some other locality, the better it will be for our necks. 

Coyle. Ha, ha, ha ! ( fills and hands glass) Here, try this, {both drink) 
I'm agreed — when shall we move? 

Barrs. {lighten") At once — Old Greene is getting suspicious of me. It's no 
use waiting longer, {thunder) And it is clear to my mind, that those girls 
will never be ours by tair means, and if that is so they shall by foul, or one 
of them, at least. By my faith, Coyle, I don't believe you care a fig for 
Rose. 

<- Coyle. W T ell to tell the truth, I don't. If she had some money, 'twould 
make a difference, and furthermore, I think one will be enough to manage 
Bother, Rose Cranberry ? I'll help you off with the other one if you can 
get her. Then let's get out of these diggins, or we may get "panned out." 
I'll take my shire of the money, and let the girl take care of herself j but 
what is your plan ? 

Barrs. This : to-morrow night — you know, being the night before the 
fourth, I'll go up to old Greene's and spend the evening. I'll induce Mabel 
to walk with me in the moon-light, under the elms. We'll stroll down by 
the spring, I'll put a cap over her mouth, and hand her into a carriage, 
which you shall have there, and away we go. {lightning — thunder 

Coyle. That seems to mean business — so do we; but really, that must 
have struck close by. Oh, it's a fearful night — Just the time to plan for 
deeds of darkness. * If it is like this to-morrow night, your cake will be 
dough. 

Barrs. Depend upon it, this won't last long. It'll be all clear in the 
morning. You won't fail me Brandon ? 

Cosle. Did I ever ? No, I'll be the last one to back, now. My courage 
improves with practice, and besides it's agoing to make quite a difference 
in my financial matters. You've got ten thousand dollars of the old man's 
money. Half of that's mine, and then you'll do the handsome by me for 
helping to get the girl. 

Barrs. {laughs) Don't scheme too close on a fellow. Bran, my place will 
be a ticklish one ; but I'll do the square. 

Coyle. Of course you will. Come fill up again, before you go out. {fills 
both glasses) Here's success. 

Barrs. {lightning) Here's luck to chloroform, gags and a steady nerve. 

{both drink — thunder 

CURTAIN. 



SCENE THIRD— Farmer Greene's parlor. 

Enter Tim, r., scratching his head. 

Tim. Them telegraphs are kinder curus things. I never could see 'zact- 
ly how they worked. I was down tu the depot, this arternoon, an' they had 
one o' the consarns on the table there. It looked as much like a 
big parin' machine as anythin'. A feller, he sot there, and kept haulin a 
strip of paper out o' the'r machine, and all the time it kept up a tarnal 
racket— sounded like an old gobler, pickin' up corn out o' a tin pan. Arter 
a while, the feller gin me a letter, an said take thet up tu Mr. Greene. So 



!6 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

1 hastened up with all dispatch. Now, whatbeats me is this: it said some 
one was aomin' on the late train, tu spend the fonrth with us. Didn't have 
no name on it, nor nothin'. I don't see who'n thunder 'tis. S'pose we've 
got tu wait an' see. I hope that darned skunk in t'other room will continue 
tu hang 'round a spell longer. Won't there he lively times afore this 
night's through? {laughs) Shouldn't wonder it this {takes letter from 'pock- 
et) dispatch opened some folks eyes some. I found it right on the bridge 
when 1'se goin' down to the post-office. Seein's there wan't no name on't I 
thought I'd cabbage it. I've kept mum , but I'll make it hot fer thet cuss 
in t'other room, afore another hour rolls over his head. It's time Rose was 
here now. I don't see what the reason is, she hasn't come. I'd a gone 
mvself, only 1 wanted tu keep my eye on Simon Barrs. Besides, the jour- 
ney's just what suited Rose, tu a T. Wouldn't he like to get his fingers on 
this? {reads) "Partner, follow, and meet me at the Notch, at once. Bill is 
on anew scent, and we may be able to pluck a brand from the burning. 
Then we'll return, and close accounts with old Greene. I'll give him credit 
of being a blind old fool, and credit myself with ten thousand dollars and 
the girl. That will probably end my business with the Greene family. 
Well, twice is about enough to open your ledger in such business, with one 
firm. Wouldn't my wife, that is to be, caress me, if she knew it was me, 
who let day-light into her brother Frank ? But time's up. and I must start. 
Follow close upon my heels, and we'll be back in time to finish up business 
here. S. B." S. B. — Swindlin' Bull-frog. Yes, so I see. I'm glad ye got 
back in time. Shouldn't wonder, old feller, if the next account you opened, 
was with the town constable* 

Enter Rose r. 

Rose Ha, ha, ha ! But wouldn't I make a professional? I'm almost 
tempted to try it, my first effort was so successful. Ha, ha, ha 1 
Tim. What'n thunder ails ye ? When'd you git back ? 
Rose. Oh ! but won't we have some fun now? Tim : Brandon Coyle i3 
in the hands of a keeper. The sheriff and his thr^e deputies will make all 
haste and will soon arrive. As I passed through the silting room, 1 saw 
the handle of this, {shoivs revolver) peeping out of his coat. I had such a 
good opportunity that I could not withstand the temptation. As I passed 
him, I tripped, and caught on the back of his chair, and at the same time 
caught this, made my excuse and here lam. Wasn't it a good joke though ? 
Tihi. As he is quite liable tu have, occasion tu miss it, I must say it was. 
{puts his arm around and kisses her) So was thet. 

Rose. Tim, how dare you, when I've got a revolver? 
Tim. Kill me quick, I'm tew sweet tu live. 

Enter Hazel Greene, R., followed by Simon Barrs. — Rose conceals revolver. 

Greene. Pshaw, pshaw! not a word— I won't listen. The night's warm 
and we've got tu wait fer our unknown friend, ana you shall stay, and keep 
us company ; so no more objections. 

Barrs. But, Mr. Greene, t do not wish to intrude. 

Greene. You won't, not a bit. Mabel seems inclined tu prefer the old 
r<">of in preference tu any young man's inducements, an' I guess I shall let 
the gal do as she is a mind tu. She always has — pretty near; but you can 
keep rue company. 

Ruse. Yes, Mr. Barrs, 6top a while, we're expecting visitors. 

Barrs. If such be your wish of course I cannot refuse. 

Enter Mabel, R. 

Miss Greene — Mabel, why must I endure your presence, when I listen in 
vain for one encouraging word, from your lips? 

Mabel. Simon Barrs, why renew this conversation? I have told you 
many times, that your case is hopeless. Pray never refer to the subject 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 17 

again, in my presence, for 1 shall never marry you. I am the promised 
wife of Hart Hawkins. 

Barrs. Tben you're the promised wife of a dead man. He's food for the 
fishes, long ago-. You will never see his face again ; but if he was alive, 
he'd never come to claim you. He was as false as the wind that blows. 

Enter Hart Haivkins, L. 

Hawk. Simon Barrs, you lie I 
Barrs. {aghast) Hart Hawkins ! you here? 

Mab. Alive, alive! Oh! Hart! (rushes to 7iis arms 

Hawk. Yes, Simon Barrs, I'm here to help block your little game. I 
have learned all. Thank heaven, I am in season. Villian, that you are ! 

Barrs. Have a care, Hawkins, that's hard talk. 

Greene. That's an insult, Mr. Hawkins, and don't you dare repeat it in 
my house, unless you have the proof. 

Barrs. Mr. Greene, let me look on the man's face, that dare say he can. 
prove me to be a villian or a liar. 

Tim. If thet's what yer a hankerin' arter, just cast yer optics on my 
countenance. 

Greene. Tim, explain yourself, sir. (starting 

Barrs. Will you allow the rabble of that idiot to have any bearing, sir? 

Tim. Hold on squire, I've no doubt you'd murder us all, if you could — 
seein' it's right in your line o' business. 

Barrs. Fool, swallow those words, or I'll shoot you as 1 would a dog! 
(puts his ha?id in pocket for revolver — ivo.se step>s up presents and cocks revolver) 

Bose. Face your own music, Mr. Barrs. Tim, go on. (all are astonished 

Tim. Friend Greene, listen to this letter, which came into my posession 
rather unexpr ctedly. (reads letter — Bose keeps revolver pointed at Ba7'rs 

Hawk. So, this is your game, is it ? 1 thought I was posted ; but here is 
a little episode in your miserable career, with which I was heretofore un- 
acquainted. 

Greene, (very excited) So this is the viper, I've nourished in my bosom. 
Inhuman monster that you are ! I've been warned of you long before ; but 
fool that I was, those friendly words of warning were thrown aside for the 
flattering words, which came from your oily tongue. You, the murderer 
of my dear boy ! Oh, let me get at him ! (starts for Barrs ; but is held back 
by Mabel) 

Mab. Father, do not stain your hands with blood, (to Barrs) Miserable 
man, may a just God have mercy on you — I cannot 

Barrs. Ha, ha! I see you've found me out ; but don't fancy you'llget 
any revenge out of me. Good evening, (attempts to exit, l. — Rose advances 

Bo*se. Kot another step or I fire ! 

Barrs. Confusion ! I forgot you. ( Tim goes, L. , and calls outside 

Tim. Men, are you there? (policemen's rattles outside, k., l. and c.) Ye 
see, 'squire, we've made preparations fer this little tea-paity. Ye can't git 
away — the pickets outside are tew numerous. 

Baws. 1 see my little game is balked at every turn ; but I'll never be 
taken alive. Think not that you will ever see your intended victim dangle 
from the end of a halter, (to Bose) You have one weapon ; but I have this 
left, (draws dirk) and with it I'll send my guilty soul to meet the many 
victims of my bloody crimes, (stabs himself,— falls c. — Mabel screams and 
nearly faints ; but is supported by Haivkins) 

TABLEAU. 
■Rose and Tim, L., Hawkins and Mabel f R., Greene, e. c. 

CURTAIL. 



13 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

SCENE FOURTH — Sa?ne as Scene first Aat first — Mr. and Mrs. Greene 
enter r. as the curtain rites. 

Mrs. G. Husband, I trust that the tragic scene of last evening, will 
prove a warning to us all. What if our only child, had fallen a victim to 
that man ? 

Greene. Oh wife ! call him not a man ; hut rather a fiend,vin human 
form, and wife, let the lesson be for me alone. "When I look back upon the 
last three years, I shudder to think of the dangers to which, in my own 
blind folly, I have been exposed, and which, had it not been for the hidden 
hand of fate, would surely hsve provee our ruin. 

Mrs G. Yee, Hazel, and let us be thankful our misfortunes are what 
they are, rather than what they threatened to be. 

Greene. Our experience, wife, has been dearly bought ; but my old heart 
was never brighter, than on this beautitul anniversary ot our national indi- 
pendenee. The love of money has nearly proved our ruin; but henceforth 
I will ever bear in mind the old proverb, "All is not gold that glitters." 

Enter Tim, l., wiping face with sieve — hat in other hand. 

Tim. Whem ! It's hotter'n Floriday, and the merskeeters'll chaw a 
a feller up, by'm-by. We had quite a surprise party last night — didn't, wa 
Mr. Greene? Jimminy ! but that miserable galoot got disgusted with him- 
self pretty puick, when he found his bread, was buttered side down, didn't 
he ? 

Mrs. G. Timothy, remember he's gone where the wicked cease from 
troubling. 

Tim. Well, I don't know 'bout thet. If I had done what he has, I 
should expect to land right in the equitoriaj regions of Hell, and if I's 
goin tu write tu him, there's where I should address my communication. 
At any rate, I'm glad he's paid his own fare. He has saved the state of Ver- 
mont, five hundred dollars, clean cash. 

Enter Mabel and Hawkins, R. 

Mab. Now, sir, you shall explain your sudden appearance among us. 

Tim. Yes, tell us where'n thunder you've been. 

Greene, {doming forward, takes Havjkins by the hand.) Mr. Hawkins, we 
are all anxious to hear an account of your wanderings ; but first of all, let 
me ask your pardon, for sending you away, for I did do it — a word from me 
would have kept you here. 

Hawk. Never mind friend Greene, that is past, and besides, it is better 
that it was so. You know I left on board a merchant vessel : well, in due 
course of time we put into the port of Melbourne, and as large numbers 
were going to the mines, I procured my discharge from the merchant serv- 
ice, determined to try my luck, with many others, in the gold mines of 
Ballarat. I bought a claim for a mere trifle, that had been abandoned, and 
went to work. After I had been there a short iime, I thought I would let 
my friends know, if dossible, where I was. I wrote a letter to Mabel, giv- 
ing a full account of my adventures, up to the time, and telling her I would 
write again, whenever a favorable opportunity presented. 

Mab. You did write to me then ; but I never received it. 

Hawk. Quite likely. I knew tue chances were in favor of its never 
reaching you, as all the mail was sent on the ocean steamers, plying be- 
tween Australia, theFeejee and Sandwich islands, and connecting with San 
Francisco. Although the Pacific rail road is now completed, at that time 
it was in its infancy, and the mail conveyances across the far west, were 
quite uncertain. Well, as I said, I went to work in the mines. I worked 
cariy and late for eightteen months. At first I got discouraged, poor luck 
faced me every day ; but at last there was a change. As I sunk deeper into 
the earth, the yellow dust grew plenty. I worked with renewed energy- 
determined that if it was gold that advanced a man's standing in the world, 
1 would never rest content until I had it. 



THE REWARD OF CRIME. 19 

Greene. Hawkins, my toy, I have at last found out — though sad has 
been my experience — that Clarinda was right, a mau should not be judged 
by the clothes he wears, cr perchance, the fortune he inherited ; but never 
earned. 

Hawk. Do not mistake my meaning, friend Greene. I never wish to de- 
ceive the world in regard to my ability, humble though it be; but to con- 
tinue : at the end of a year and a half, I sold my claim, and sailed for Syd- 
ney. While wandering through the streets of that town, one day, I saw a 
carriage, drawn by a pair of furious horses, dashing up the street at full 
speed. It was the work of a moment to plant myself in front of them, and 
as they were about to pass, I caught them by the bits, and alter beinf 
dragged a long distance, brought them to a stop. 

Mrs G. Laud o' massy, boy I Weren't you hurt? 

Hawk. I was somewhat. My ankle was fractured, and I fainted as soon 
as the horses were safe. When I came to myself, I was at "Government 
House," and soon learned that I had rescued the Governor General of New 
South Wales, and his invalid daughter. As soon as I was able, I wrote you 
again, Mabel. 

Mab. That I never received. 

Hawk. Of that, I am aware , but it did not miscarry. It fell into the 
hands of Simon Barrs. How, it matters not now; but it was found this 
morning among his effects. 

Greene. Oh, the villi an ! 

Tim. Oh, the miserable snake ! 

Enter Rose h., fanning herself with haU 

Rose, Why do you agitate the air so? Is it hot? 

Rose. You bet it is- — just a little around the edges. Ah, good morning, 
Mr. Hawkins, I hope you are well, after the exciteing scene of last evening. 
I think I'll apply for a position on the police force. Wasn't he astonished 
to see his own weapon looking him in the tace? Ha, ha, ha ! 

Haick. I congratulate you, Miss Rose, upon the way you managed. Had 
he not been completely cornered he might have given us trouble unawares. 
As for my health, I assure you, it never was better; (turning to Greene) but 
for the rest of my story, Mr. Greene. When I found myself at "Govern- 
ment House, with a fractured limb, I requested to be moved to a hotel ; but 
The old general would not listen to my entreaty. I received every atten- 
tion that it was possible to suggest, and when I had sufficientlv recovered, 
the old gentleman surprised me by appointing me his private secretary, at 
agoodsalery. This position I now hold, if I return soon to the duties of 
the offices. It rests with you whether I go or not. 

Greene. Then I say you sha'n't go. I've drove you off once, and now 
we'll keep you if we have to tie you up. 

Tim. I say, friend Greene, if you tie him up with the right kind of a 
knot, I guess he'll stay. 

Mah. Tim ! 

Rose, (stamping) Tim ! 

Greene. Ha, iTa, ha! I see, I see. Clarinda, from this day, I'll be a 
different man. I'll worship, no more the god of gold ; but here, content in 
the bosom of my own family, surrounded by loving acts, and kind sympa- 
thy, I'll pass the remainder of life's voyage, in quietness, and peace, and 
we can celebrate the birthday of our nation in no more befitting way than 
by making happy the young hearts around us. 

Mrs G. Yes, yes, you dear old soul ! Let me anticipate what you would 
say, and assure you of tny heart- felt encouragement. 

Greene. Hart, my boy, once I thought I made a mistake, when I prom- 
ised you this dear girl ; but I've seen my error, and I hope you'll forgive me 
and now take the prize, which I've withheld from you so long. 

Hawk. Friend Greene, the past shall be forgotten. That your intentions 
were good I never for a moment doubted, and again let me thank you for 



20 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 

the promise, you have just given. I assure you, all that money can do for 
the advancement of your daughter'* happiness, will be done. 

Greene. My boy you say you are rich ; for this, I am truly glad, (to Tim) 
Tim, you've been like an own son to me, and as this young couple have 
money enough of their own, and will soon make for themselves a home, 
you'll stay with us, and when we're gone, the old farm shall be all yours. 

Tim. If such is your wish, farm or no farm, I'll never leave you, and 
my thanks, though tbey come from a heart that is rough, are none the less 
sincere ; but, I say Rose, hadn't we better have one o' them knots tied, thet 
I was mentioning? 

Rose. The sooner, the better to suit me. Somehow this proverb keeps 
running m my mind : "never put off 'til to-morrow, what can be done to- 
day." 

Tim. Good ! This evening shall see me a happy man of family. 

(kisses her 
Greene. Hart, Mabel — children, I think you've waited long enough. 
W T hy not further celebrate the day by a double wedding? 

Tim. Yes, friend Hawkins, let's enlist for life, together — 'twon't cost a 
darned cent more. 

Hawk. I leave the matter in these dear hands. Her wish shall be my 
law. 

Mab. (archly) Then let's make but one job of it. 

Greene. Then to-night shall see us all, a happy band, bound by a tie, 
stronger and more precious than gold — the silken cord of love. Hart, my 
boy, as I give my only remaining child, into your keeping, I ask that you 
will profit by my sad experience, and never cast aside the love of true and 
honest hearts, for the sordid love of gold. 

Journeying down the river of life, should our bark 

Be tossed on a crest, 
Let as put down the helm, with a steadfast arm, 
And enter the haven of rest. 
Mrs. G. Or if angry breakers beset our way, let our 
Courage never abate, 
For with honest hearts and noble deeds, 
"We shall reach the pearly gate. 
Mab. Our moral surely's plain and clear, 

To every one assembled here. 
Hawk. Well. then, my dear, if that is so, 

A word to our friends before they go. 
Hose. What shall it be ? Stop ! let me think. 
(Take care, Tim, you needn't wink.) 
We thank you ail for your kind applause, 
And the interest you've taken in our cause. 
Tim. And when'ere you chance to pass this way, 
Just give us a call, in a friendly way, 

And we'll gladden your visions, whenever you pass, 
W r ith little editions of Cranberry sass. 

Tim. Rose. Greene. Mrs. Greene. Hawkins. Mabel. 

a. Curtain. l. 



AMES' SXArVI>AKI> A.HTD MINOR DRAMA, 



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40. THAT MYSTERIOUS BUNDLE. A Farce in one act, by Hattie Lena 
Lambla. 2 male, 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. Scenery, a plain 
room. A Variety peice, yet can be performed by Amatuers, etc. A Mysterious 

bundle figures in this farce, which contains a . Time of performance, 20 

minutes. 

41. WON AT LAST. A Comedy Drama in 3 acts, by Wybert Reeve, 7 male, 
3 female characters. Costumes modern. Scenery, drawing-room, street and 
office. Every character is good. Jennie Hight starred on the character of "Con- 
stance" in this play. Amatuers can produce it. Time of performance, 1 hour 
45 minutes. 

42. DOMESTIC FELICITY. A Farce in one act, by Hattie Lena Lambla, 1 
male, 1 female character. Costumes modern. Scene, a dining room. The name 
fully describes the piece. Very funny. Time of performance, fifteen minutes. 

43. ARRAH DE BAUGH. A Drama in 5 acts, by F. C. Kinnaman, 7 male, 
5 female characters. Costumes modern. Scenes, exteriors and interiors. A 
most exquisite love story in a play, abounding in scenes of great beauty. The 
depth of woman's love is beautifully shown. Time of performance about two 
hours. 

44. OBEDIENCE, OR TOO MINDFUL BY FAR. A Comedietta in one 
act, by Hattie Lena Lambla, 1 male, 2 female characters. Costumes modern. 
Scenes, plain room and bed room. An old fellow who thinks he is very sick, be- 
comes vely peevish and particular. A plot is formed to break him of his foolish- 
ness. Very amusing. Time of performance twenty minutes. 

45. ROCK ALLEN THE ORPHAN, OR LOST AND FOUND. A Comedy 
Drama in one act, by W. Henri Wilkins, 5 male, 3 female characters. Costumes 
modern. Scenes interiors. Time, during the Rebellion. This play represents 
the real "deown east" characters to perfection. An old man and woman are al- 
ways quarreling, and their difficulties are very amusing. Time of performance, 
one hour and twenty minutes. 

46. MAN AND WIFE. A Drama in five acts, by H. A. Webber, 12 male, 7 
female characters. Costumes modern. Scenery exteriors and interiors. This 
drama is one of'intense interest and is a faithful dramatization of Wilkie Collins' 
story of the same name. This is said by competant critics to be the best dram- 
atization published, and it should be "in the hands of every dramatic company 
in the country. It has become a great favorite. 

47. IN THE WRONG BOX. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, by M. A. D. 
Clifton, 3 male characters. Costumes, peddler's and darkey's dilapidated dress. 
Scene, a wood. Characters repiesented, a darkey, an Irishman and a Yankee. 
Time of performance twenty minutes. 

48. SCHNAPPS. A Dutch Farce in one act, M. A. D. Clifton, 1 male, 1 fe- 
male character. Costumes, burlesque German. Scene, a plain room. A neat 
little piece for two Dutch players, introducing songs and dances. Time of per- 
formance, 15 to 30 minutes, at the pleasure of the performers. 

49. DER TWO SUB PRISES. A Dutch Farce in one act, by M. A. D. Clifton, 

I male, 1 female character. Costumes, peasant's, and old man's and old woman's 
dress. Scene, a kitchen. A very neat little sketch, introducing songs and 
dances. Time of performance, about twenty minutes. 

50. HAMLET. A Tragedy in five acts, by Shakespeare, 15 male, 3 female 
characters. Probably no other play by the immortal Shakespeare is produced 
as frequently as this one. It needs no description. Time of performance about 
two hours and thirty minutes. 

51. RESCUED. A Temperance Drama in two acts, by Clayton H. Gilbert, 5 
male, 3 female characters. This play visibly depicts the dangerous consequen- 
ces of falling into bad company, the follies of the intoxicating bowl, and shows 
that even the pure love of a noble girl will be sacrificed to the accursed appetite. 
The solemn scenes are balanced by the funny portions, and all in all the play 
is a grand success. Costumes modern. Scenes, interiors some neatly and some 
handsomely furnished. Time of performance one hour. 

52. HENR Y GRANDEN. A Drama in three acts, by Frank Lester Bingham, 

II male, 8 female characters. This drama is sensational in a high degree, 
abounding in thrilling scenes among the Indians, hair breadth escapes, etc. It 
should be purchased by every dramatic company that wish something to suit the 
public. Costumes not hard to arrange. Time of performance two hours. 



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53. 0I7T IN THE STREETS. A Temperance Drama in three acts, by S. N. 
Cook, 6 male, 4 female characters. Wherever this drama has been produced it 
has been received with the greatest entVusiasm. Listeners have been melted to 
tears at the troubles of Mrs. Bradford, and in the next scene been convulsed 
with laughter at the drolleries of North Carolina Pete. Costumes modern. 
Scenes, interiors. Time of performance, about one hour. 

54. THE TWO T. J's. A Farce in one act, by Martin Beecher, 4 male, 2 fe- 
male characters. Costumes of the day ; scene an ordinary room. This is a cap- 
ital farce and has two male characters excellent for light and low comedians. 
Good parts also for old and young lady. Time of performance thirty minutes. 

55. SOMEBODY'S NOBODY. A Farce in one act and one scene, by C. A. 
Maltby, 3 male. 2 female characters. Scene, interior. Easily arranged 'n anv 
parlor or hall, as it can be produced without scenery. Costumes modern with 
the exception of Dick Mizzle's which is hostler's and afterwards extravagant 
fashionable. This most laughable farce was first produced at the Drury Lane 
Theater, London, where it had a run of one hundred and fifty consecutive 
nights. It is all comic, and has excellont parts for old man, walking gent, low 
comedy, walking lady and chambermaid. Time of performance, 30 minutes. 

56. WOOING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. A Farce in one act and one scene, 
by John T. Douglass, 4 male, 3 female characters. Scene, handsomely furnished 
apartment. Costumes of the day. Probably no poor fellow ever wooed under 
more distressing difficulties than the one in this farce. It all comes about 
through a serious misunderstanding. A crusty old man, and a quarrelsome and 
very important servant go to make the farce extremely funny. Time of per- 
formance thirty minutes. 

57. PADDY MILES' BOY. An Irish Farce in one act, by James Pilgrim , 5 
male, 2 female characters. Scenes, exteriors and interiors. Costumes eccentric, 
and Irish for Paddy. Probably there is not an Irish farce published so often 
presented as this one, but it is" always a favorite and is always received with 
great applause. Time of performance 35 minutes. 

58. WRECKED. A Temperance play in two acts, by A. D. Ames, 9 male, 3 fe- 
male characters. Scenes, drawing room, saloon, street and j ail. Costumes mod - 
ern. The lessons learned in this drama are most excellent. The language is 
pure, containing nothing to offend the most refined ear. From the comfortable 
home and pleasant fireside, it follows the downward course of the drunkard to 
the end. All this is followed by counterfeiting, the death of the faithful wife 
caused by a blow from the hand of a drunken husband, and finally the death of 
the drunkard in the madhouse. Time of performance about one hour. 

59. SAVED. A Temperance Sketch in two acts, by Edwin Tardy, 2 male, 3 
female characters. Scenes, street and plain room. Nicely adapted to amatuers, 
Time of performance twenty minutes. 

60. DRIVEN TO THE WALL, OR TRUE TO THE LAST. A Play in four 
acts, by A. D. Ames. 10 male and 3 female characters. For beauty of dialogue, 
startling situations, depths of feeling there is none on the American Stage supe- 
rior to^this one. The plot is an exceedingly deep one, and the interest begins 
with the first speech, and does not for a moment cease until the curtain falls on 
the last scene of the last act. The cast is small and the costumes easily arranged. 
It can be played on any stage. It has parts for Leading Emotional Lady, Juve- 
nile Lady, Leading Man, Villain, Character Old Man. First Old Man, Comedy, etc. 

61. NOT AS DEAF AS HE SEEMS. An Ethiopean Farce in one act. 2 
male characters. Scene, a plain room. Costumes exagerated and comic. Ex- 
tremely ridiculous and funny. Time of performance 15 minutes. 

G2. TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR-ROOM. A Temperance Play in five acts, by 
Wm. W. Pratt, from T. S. Arther's novel of the same name — 7 male, 3 female 
characters. This edition is rewritten, containing many new points, and is the 
hist ever presented to the public. Nothing need be said' in its praise, as it is too 
well known. It is often played, and always successfully. Time of performance 
about two hours. 

68. THREE GLASSES A DA Y, Or, The Broken Home. A gTand Moral and 
Temperance Drama, in twoacts, by W. Henri Wilkins, 4 male, 2 female charact- 
ers. Costumes modern. Scenes, interiors. First-class characters for Leading 
Man, Villain, a genuine down-east Yankee, which is also very funny ; also Lead- 
ing Lady, and a tip-top Comedy Lady. If a company wishes something with an 
excellent moral, at the same time running over with genuine humor, buy this. 
Time of performance about one hour and thirty minutes. 

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64. THAT BOY SAM. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, byF. L. Cutler. 3 
male, 1 female character. Scene, a plain room and common furniture. Cos- 
tumes, comic, to suit the characters. Very funny, and effectually gives the 
troubles of a "colored gal" in trying to have a beau, and the pranks of "that boy 
Sam." Time of performance twenty minutes. 

65. AN UNWELCOME RETURN. A Comic Interlude, in one act, by Geo. 
A. Munson. 3 male, 1 female character. Scene, a dining room. Costumes, 
modern. Companies will find this a very amusing piece, two negroes being very 
funny — enough so to keep an audience in the best of humor. Time of perform- 
ance, twenty minutes. 

66. BANS, TEE DUTCH J. P. A Dutch Farce in one act, by F. L. Cutler, 
a 3 male, 1 female character. An exceedingly funny piece. Hans figures as a 
Q Justice in the ab sence of his master, and his exploits are extremely ludricous. 

Costumes modern. Scene, plain room. Time of performance,twenty minutes. 

67. THE FALSE FRIEND. A Drama in two acts, by Geo. S. Vautrot. 6 
male, 1 female character. Simple scenery and costumes. First class characters 
for leading man, old man, villain, a rollicking Irishman, etc. also a good lead- 
ing lady. This drama is one of thrilling interest, and dramatic companies will 
invariably be pleased with it. Time of performance, one hour and forty-five 
minutes. ' 

68. THE SHAM PROFESSOR. A Farce in one act, by F. <L. Cutler. 4 male 
characters. This intensely funny afterpiece can be produced by any company. 
The characters are all first class, and the "colored individual" is especially fun- 
ny. Scene, a plain room. Costumes, simple. Time of performance, about 
twenty minutes. 

69. MOTHER'S FOOL. A Farce in one act, by W. Henri Wilkins. 6 male, 
1 female character. Like all of Mr. Wilkins' plays, this is first class. The 
characters are all well drawn, it is very amusing, and proves an immense suc- 
cess wherever produced. Scene, a simple room. Costumes modern. Time of 
performance, thirty minutes. 

70. WHICH WILL HE MARRY. A Farce in one act, by Thomas Egerton 
Wilks. 2 male, 8 female characters. Scene, a street. Costumes modern. Easi- 
ly arranged on any stage. A barber hears that one of eight women has fallen 
heir to some money, not knowing which, he makes love to them all. This, to- 
gether with the revenge the females have upon him, will prove laughable enough 
to suit any one. Time of representation, thirty minutes. 

71. THE REWARD OF CRIME, OR THE LOVE OF GOLD. A Drama of 
Vermont, in two acts, by W. Henri Wilkins. 5 male, 3 female characters. A 
drama from the pen of this author is sufficient guarantee of its excellence. 
Characters for old man, 1st and 2d heavy men, juvenile. A splendid Yankee, 
lively enough to suit any one. Old woman, juvenile woman, and comedy. 
Costumes modern. Scene, plain rooms and street. Time of performance, one 
hour and thirty minutes. Easily placed upon the stage, and a great favorite 
with amatuers. 

72. THE DEUCE IS IN HIM. A Farce in one act, by E. J. Raymond. 5 
male, 1 female character. Scene, a plain room. Costumes modern. This farce 
is easily arranged, and can be produced on any stage, in fact, in a parlor. The 
pranks of the doctor's boy will keep an audience in roars of laughter, every line 
being full of fun. Time of performance, thirty minutes. Order this, and you 
will be pleased. 

73. A T LAST. A Temperance Drama in three acts, by G. S. Vautrot. 7 male 
1 female character. This is one of the most effective temperance plays ever pub- 
lished. Good characters for leading man, 1st and 2d villain, a detective, old 
man, a Yankee, and a capital negro, also leading lady. The temptations of city 
life are faithfully depicted, the effects of gambling, strong drink, etc. Every 
company that orders it will produce it. Costumes modern. Scene, Mobile, 
Time of performance, one hour and thirty minutes. 

74. HOW TO TAME YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW. A Farce in one act, by 
Henry J. Byron. 4 male, 2 female characters. Scene, parlor, supposed to be in 
the rear of a grocers shop. Costumes modern. Whiffles the proprietor of the 
grocery, has a mother-in-law who is always interfering with his business. Vari- 
ous expedients are resorted to to cure her— a mutual friend is called in who, by 
the aid of various disguises frightens the old lady nearly to death, finally Whif- 
fles gets on a "ge-lorious drunk," and at last triumphs. A perfect success. 
Time of performance, thirty-five minutes. 



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13. THE SERF. A Tragedy, in five acts, by R. Talbot Esq.. 6 males, 3 fe- 
male characters. Good parts for 1st and 2nd Tragedian, and Tragic lady. The 
character of Ossip is very powerfully drawn. The history of his early love— of 
his marriage— the indignities he is made to suffer, and the death of his wife, is 
highly wrought ; and his sarcastic levity and deep revenge are unfolded with a 
terrible earnestness. Scene, apartments in castle. Time about 2 hours and a half. 

17. HINTS ON ELOCUTION AND HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR. This 
valuable work has just been published, and contains valuable instructions that 
amateur actors, and every one that ever expect to make a favorable appearance 
in public, cannot do without it. It teaches you how to become a good and ef- 
ficient reader, reciter, debater, a good actor, how to hold an audience silent, and 
treats on every subject that is necessary to be acquired in order to become a 
good and pleasing actor. 

18. THE POACHER'S DOOM. A Drama in 3 acts curtailed and arranged 
by A. 1). Ames, 8 male, and 3 female characters. A thrilling drama, always a 
favorite. Leading man, villian, two comedies, old man, hading lady, coin idy 
lady, etc. Costumes modern. The situations in this play, are most excellent. 
Time of performance, 1 hour and a half. 

19. Din I DREAM IT? A Farce in one act by J. P. Woofer. 4 male, 3 fe- 
male characters. Scene, drawing room. The question "Did I Dream it" is what 
the farce is founded upon. Very strange things happen, and a nice little love 
scraps helps to color the plot. A good piece. Costumes simple. Time of per- 
formance to minutes. 

20. .1 TICKET OF LEA V.E. A Farce in one act, by Watts Phillips, 3 m ale, 
2 female characters. A [day written by this author is sufficient guarantee of 
its excellence. Scene, a sitting room, plain furniture. Costumes modern. Time 
of perf irmauce, 35 minutes. This is an excellent farce. 

21. A ROMANTIC ATTACHMENT. A C nueUietta in one act, by Arthur 
Wood, 3 male, 3 female characters. A most excelle.it little play, well adapted 
for school exhibitions, lodges, amatuers, etc. Th • scenery is simple, being a 
plain room, is always a favorite with every company which plays it. Tinu of 
performance, '-'> : > mine 

22. VA PTAIN SMITH. A Farce in one act, by 15. B Trie, 3 male, 3 female 
characters. This excellent little farce is equally well adapted tor school exhi- 
bitions, etc., as No. 21, The dialogue is sparkling, not a dull speech from be- 
ginning to end. The plot simple, the piece easily performed. S.-cuc, a plain 
room. Costumes modern. Time of performance, 30 mi.uut.es. 

25. Ml HEARTS IN THE HIGHLANDS. A Farce in one act, by Wil- 
liam I? rough and Andrew Halliday, 4 male, 3 female characters. Scene, exte- 
rior of house iu the Highlands. Costumes, simple Highland. This farce is eas- 
ily produced and vo.y effective is full of fun, caused by the mishaps of two char- 
acters, who go from tne city to the country, and do not know a pig from a roe- 
buck, nor a mrkey Iron an ostrich. Time of performance, 25 minutes. 

24. HANDY ANDY. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, 2 male characters. 
Scene, a kitchen. C tstumes, exagerated and comic. The ditSculticsia procu- 
ring a good and suitable servant are most ludicrously set forth in this farce. 
Time of performance, 20 minutes. 

25. SPORT WITH A SPORTSMAN. An Ethiopean Farce, in one act. 2 
male characters Costumes, exagerated sportsman's dress, and boyish dress. 
Scene, a wood. Tune of representation, 20 minutes. A tip top negro "farce. 

2.5. THE HUNTER OF THE ALPS. A Drama in one act, by William 
Dimond, !) mile, i female characters. Scene in-door and forest. Costumes, 
Swiss. Itosalvi, the hunter of the Alps leaves his home to procure provisions to 
keep his AVife an I children from starving, meets Felix, a lord, and demands, 
and dually implores of him money. Felix moved with compassion gives him 
money and go a with him to his hut, and there discovers they are brothers. 
There is some line comedy in it. The story is beautifully told. Time of per- 
formance 1 hour. 

27. FETTER LANE TO GRAVESEND. An Ethiopean Fare'e in one act, 
■1 male characters. Scene, plain room. Costume, exagerated and comic. The 
two characters, Ike and Hystericks are very funny, and will keep an audience 
iu rous of laughter. Short, easily produced, and a tip top farce. Time of per- 
formance 15 minutes. 



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Madison ters. 

arranj mit the characters, Th _ 

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nt. Time of performance, 35 ininul 
'.'. I.\ TEIi OF GHENT. A Play in one act, by Dougla? 

in i hen istumes of the country ar.d 

tutiful play of the tragic order. The character of the "1\ 
grandeur and fine language. He becomes insane at the 
painter, paints their portraits from memory. A 
d, returns to him, and he recuv granJ 

Diance, 1 hour. 
A DA V WELL SPENT. A Farce in one act, by John Oxenford, 7 male, 
y simple. Costumes, modern. Two clerks in tl e 
iide to shut up shop, and have a spree. 
with the females, have numerous hair breadth esi 
rriblc time generally. Very amusing. Time of performance, 
mi in i 

A PET OF THE PUBLIC. A Faice in one act, by Edward Sterling, 
taracters. Scene, parlor. Costumes, modern. In tl 
our distinct characters, either of which is good. I 
i y, it is a splendid piece, and amatuers can also produce it with- 
roubj 1 r he used for a principal piece, or an afterpiece. Time 

S RELATIONS. A Comedietta, in one act, by Walter Gor- 
don, 4 mal 4 female characters. Scene, plain apartments. Costumes, modern. 

A p: ell suited to amatuers, school exhibitions, etc. A fel- 

low marries, her relatives comes to see her, are much more numerous than he lias 
an idea of. The denoument is funny. Time of performance, 45 minutes. 

E SLY. A Farce in one act, by John Madison Morton , 3 mal?, 
•I ic ene, plain apartment. Costumes, modern. Husbands, 

don't never fall in love with your wive's dress makers — never squander your 
money foolishly, never do anything "on the sly," for your wives will be sure to 
find it out. Tliis farce explains it all. Time or performance 45 minutes. 

THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. A Melo Drama in two acts, by Charles 
female characters. Scene, castle, chamber and wood. 
tumes, doublets, trunks, etc. A most excellent Melo-Drama. Plenty of b 
and thund enough jolly, rollicking fun to nicely balance it. A . 

favorite with amatuers. Time of performance 1 hour and 30 minutes. 

HOW STOUT YOU'RE GETTING. A Farce in one act, by John Mad- 
male. 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. Scene, a plain 
roon inotherof Morton ! s excellent farces. The comedy cliaractd 

drawn, and it always is a favorite. Easily produced. Tin 
performance, Sf> minu 

I ILLER OF DERWENT WATER. A Drama in thn 
Edward Fitasbal), 5 male, 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. Seen 
i. This is a touching little domestic drama, abounding in 
Is to the better feelings of one's nature. The ".Miller" i 
lent .old man. Two comedy characters keep the audience in good humor 
Tine l hour and 30 minutes. 

37. NO i D AFTER A LL. A Comedy, in 3 acts, by Wybert lb 

6 male, 5 femali modern. Scenery, simple and easily ar- 

ranged. Every character in this comedy is in itself a leading character, and 
.ever; funny. Probably there is not a play in the language in which 

every> funny as this. Time of performance, 1 hour in minutes. 

EWITVHED CLOSET A Sketch in one act, by Hal 
I.am male characters Parson Grime's kitchen. Costumes 

modern. A l< his BWOetheart, hides in a closet. Old man a|- 

t bewitched. They upset it. < >ld in; 
is away. I Time of performance, 15 minu 

Drama in Wm. K. Sutci 

mcIi, period ItJi itlev, 

I hy amatuers but is a heavy piece. A tin 

\ is., leading lady, juvenile lad \ 


















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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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